Hell, Texas, page 5
Buck grabbed the knife and held it up in front of her face.
“Now, don’t you fidget none. This is gonna hurt just a bit,” he said as he took the sharp blade and began cutting along her waistline. He started at her belly button and running the knife around her side, along her back and back to where he started. She screamed and flailed her legs as he cut, but he managed to cut a mostly straight line.
“Damn, you still have some fight in ya, huh?” He laughed. Blood poured from the incision as he dug his fingers into the folds of the cut, tearing the skin away from the bone and muscle. She screamed some more as he pulled down on the skin as hard as he could, the ripping and squishing sounds of her skin and tissue being drowned out by her screams.
He continued tearing her skin off her as if he were pulling down a pair of pants; the skin was now past her butt cheeks and down to her thighs. Buck was sweating and grunting with each pull. Misti never stopped screaming and she had kept kicking, but the further down the skin got, the more it hurt. She felt as if her legs were being torn off, which they kind of were. The pain was so intense, she couldn’t even pass out from it. The worse was when the skin tore away from her vagina and labia, he had to pull and pull until it all tore loose at once. Misti screamed a sound that didn’t even sound human.
Finally, he had the skin down around her ankles. Misti had to force herself not to look down, she didn’t want to see what he’d done. Buck stood, looking her over and admiring his handiwork.
“Wow, that looks much different than I’d gathered,” he said.
Misti stopped screaming and hung limply, whimpering and wishing he’d just kill her already.
“I wonder how this feels,” he said as he undid his pants, exposing his mangled penis. He had cleaned it off and bandaged it up, thankful to find it hadn’t been as bad as it had looked. He walked behind her and put one hand on her shoulder, as he slid his penis inside her raw, bloody vagina from behind and began thrusting.
“Damn, that actually feels pretty good,” he said.
“Please, just kill me please?” she begged.
“Nah, this is fun. I might just keep you around after all. Now shut yer face till I nut in ya,” he said, pounding away behind her. “Maybe later I can have Doc sew ya back up, then we could keep having fun.”
Chapter 16
The sun was finally going down as Jorge stepped outside. What he hadn’t seen from the window was the little mini-camp just behind the house. There were several small tents lined up. He figured that’s where the slaves slept. It was so weird thinking that there were actual slaves here in the United States, but apparently so. That’s what he was at least.
“What happened to you?” Luis said taking one look at him. Luis had replaced his speedo, but Jorge was still naked. The other slaves walked over to him, there were four or five of them, one of which was the girl. The girl looked older than the rest of them, but was incredibly skinny.
“She kind of went crazy with the shocker,” Jorge said.
“Is this him?” another of the slaves said, this one a short, stocky Hispanic guy.
“Yep, it’s him,” Luis said.
“Doesn’t look so hot to me,” the short one said.
“So you shit yourself?” Luis asked.
“I couldn’t help it, she wouldn’t stop shocking me. Then she made me eat her out.”
“Did you take good care of mother?” the short one asked.
“Did I what?” Jorge replied.
“Did you take good care of mother?” the man repeated.
“Who are you again?”
“I’m Benzo, who the fuck are you?” the short man said. Jorge noticed Benzo had an effeminate lisp. He wasn’t sure if it was something Benzo put on being a slave, or if he really talked that way.
“I’m Jorge.”
“Well let me tell you something Jorge, we take good care of Mother here. We treat her with love, and respect! That does not include rolling around on her covered in shit!”
“Why are you calling that crazy bitch, Mother?” Jorge asked. Benzo stepped into his face, or put his face into Jorge’s chest anyway.
“You better be careful pretty boy, I will take you the fuck out,” Benzo said.
“Easy guys. Let’s hose you off Jorge, you smell like shit, for real,” Luis chimed in and walked Jorge over to the hose and turned it on. He sprayed Jorge with it, causing him to jump. The water was ice cold and came out at high pressure, stinging his skin. Jorge spun around several times as the stream washed the dried shit off his body. Finally, he was clean. The makeshift shower sucked, but he was happy to have the shit and old lady smell off himself.
“Don’t worry about Benzo,” Luis said. “He’s very protective of Gilda.”
“Yeah, what’s with the Mother shit?”
“He seems to have bonded with her, a few of the slaves have. Some kind of Stockholm Syndrome probably. You know where you bond with your captor?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard the term,” Jorge said. “So we live in these tents?”
“Yep, we sleep outside in those.”
“It’s like 90 degrees at night out here.”
“Yep,” Luis said. “It sucks.”
“How long you been trapped here?” Jorge asked.
“I lost track. At least a year. Benzo has been here longer, like a few years.”
“Jesus Christ. What is with this town? I mean, how do they get away with this? Where these people come from?” Jorge asked.
“I have no idea dude. I just do what I gotta to survive.”
“You think she’ll let you go?”
“She’s old. She has to die sometime, I’m hoping when that happens, I can get out of here. I gave up on anyone coming to the rescue. No one has any idea this place is here.”
“Fucking shit,” Jorge said.
“No kidding,” Luis answered. Gunshots echoed somewhere from down the road.
“Someone shooting? That happen a lot?” Jorge asked. There was another volley of shots.
“Not that many,” Luis said as more shots rang out. “Let’s get to our tents and get inside.”
They ran back to the other side of the house and Luis pointed at one of the tents.
“That used to be Ron’s, it’s yours now,” he said. Jorge got on his hands and knees and crawled inside as more shots rang out. He figured the sheriff or someone was shooting one of the slaves. He wondered about Misti and if she was ok. She went to some guy named Buck, which in this town was probably as backwoods as it sounded. He tried not to think of what they might be doing to her. Deep down, he hoped the gunfire was someone coming to their rescue.
Chapter 17
Diana followed Miranda down the street as Miranda held the gun out in front of her. As she had stated, Elvis’ police car was sitting at the intersection barely a block down. Miranda unlocked the doors as Diana climbed into the passenger seat. She was still naked, but modesty was the least of her concerns. Miranda jumped into the driver’s seat and stuck the key into the ignition.
As she started the car, a gunshot shattered the back window.
“Shit! That Sheriff is back there!” Miranda yelled.
“Well get us the fuck out of here!” Diana said.
Miranda put it in drive and stepped on the gas. She had no idea where she was going, but away from this face-dive-off-a-cliff of a town was a good start. Since all the roads there were dirt roads, a plume of dust kicked up behind them as Miranda sped through the town. More gunshots rang out behind them but nothing hit.
A man stepped into the road about fifty yards ahead of them. He was wearing a baseball cap and holding a rifle aimed at them. Miranda stepped on the gas as Diana ducked down. He fired a shot that went right through the windshield but didn’t hit either of them. He chambered another round and aimed again. This time, Miranda swerved just enough to hit him with the car, sending him flying. He landed on the roof of the car, bounced off and Diana saw him flopping on the road behind them.
“Holy shit!” Miranda squealed. “Did you see that?”
“Yeah, that was crazy!”
The road curved in front of them and started spiraling downhill. Diana got a little nervous at their speed.
“You think we should slow down?” Diana asked. “The road is getting narrower and these hills are pretty steep.”
“Hell no, we’re getting the fuck out of here,” Miranda said.
Through some of the turns, the car began fishtailing along the gravel. One turn coming up was sharper than the rest. Miranda slowed down a little but as she turned the car, the whole vehicle began to spin, sliding sideways and off the road. It rolled over one full time, then landed sideways in a ditch.
Diana pitched forward, hitting her head on the dash, bouncing her face off the ceiling and landing on top of Miranda as the car rolled. She may have been out for a few seconds or several minutes, she wasn’t sure. Miranda was moving underneath her.
“Hey? Are you ok?” Diana asked.
“I think so, my leg hurts really bad,” Miranda said. Diana looked down and saw Miranda’s foot caught in the steering wheel and facing 180 degrees in the wrong direction.
“Is it bad?” Miranda asked.
“Uh, not too bad,” Diana lied. “A little banged up.”
“Well it hurts like hell,” Miranda grunted.
“Well, looky here! We got a couple a rats caught in a trap,” Sheriff Cutter’s voice boomed.
“Oh fuck,” Miranda said.
Cutter held leaned partway in through the broken passenger window, pointing his revolver.
“Ok, come on out you two. Don’t make me have to extract you,” Cutter said.
Diana climbed out through the passenger door. Cutter pulled her out and handcuffed her once she was out. Her legs were shaky and she had trouble standing. She shuddered at him touching her. Once he had her, part of her wished she’d just let him shoot her after all she’d been through. God knows what they’d do to her now. He dragged her to his car and shoved her in the backseat, closing the door.
Cutter walked back over to the wrecked squad car and yelled at Miranda.
“Now, you gonna come on out of there or what?”
“I can’t, my leg it stuck. I think it’s broken. I need an ambulance!” Miranda said.
“Now, maybe you haven’t figured out how things are done around here. We don’t got no ambulance. But I do have just the thing for ya.”
He walked over to his car and opened the trunk. Taking something out of the trunk, he walked back over to the wreck carrying a large gas can. He held the can up over the passenger side opening and began pouring gasoline into the car.
“What are you doing?” Miranda screamed. “Stop that! Is that gasoline?”
“It sure is darlin’. You won’t have to worry ‘bout that broken leg no more,” Cutter said as he tossed the gas can into the cruiser and took out a book of matches.
“Please! Don’t do this! You can just leave me here! I’ll cut my own leg off or something!” she pleaded.
“Sorry honey, shoulda thought about that before shooting up my town and killin’ folks.” He lit a match, then used it to light the entire book and tossed it into the car. As he walked away, Miranda let out the most horrific screams Diana had ever heard. Diana watched helplessly from the back of the squad car as her only hope of salvation burned alive.
Chapter 18
Robby woke up in a cage, but this one was different than the cage he’d been in earlier. It was smaller with just enough room for him to stand and stretch out his legs. His whole body hurt from head to toe. Pain throbbed throughout his limbs and even in his forehead. He remembered being on the Doc’s operating table, but must have passed out at some point. As he sat up, his body felt heavier than he remembered.
He looked at himself and was confused at what he saw. His arms were covered with wires and several metal rods and gears. It looked like some fucked up set of tinker toys. He felt it and tried to pull it out, but pain shot all up his arm. He noticed the contraption covered his shoulders and legs as well. As he stood, the thing made a hissing sound as some kind of hydraulics kicked in as he moved.
His current cage was constructed different than the previous one. This one had much thicker iron bars welded together in a grid pattern. Looking down at his body, he saw there were stitches along his chest and abdomen.
“Ahh, our star is awake at last!” the Doc’s voice said from a distance. Footsteps sounded as the Doc approached his cage.
“What have you done to me?” Robby asked.
“I made you better! You were just a pathetic little man before. Now, you are a machine! And a deadly one. Let him have a look Seymour,” the Doc said to his assistant.
Seymour stepped away then came back with a full length mirror, holding it in front of Robby. He almost fainted when he got the first glimpse of himself. His forehead was bulging as if something had been placed there under the skin. He reached up and felt it, and it was hard and thick. His whole head was misshapen. There was a collar around his neck with some wires coming off it. Then there was the large exoskeleton attached to him and all the stitching and scarring on his torso. His body looked like a baseball.
“What the fuck? What did you do?” Robby screamed.
“I told you, I made you better. I coated the top of your skull with a plastic solution. Now that it has hardened, it will act as a natural helmet. The exoskeleton is fused to your bones. It will give you added strength, plus act as armor. The collar is a shock collar to make sure you don’t turn on me or any of my associates. Then in your torso, I attached a chip near your heart. In case you manage to get the collar off, I just punch a code into my smart phone and it stops your heart immediately,” he said as he pointed to each part of Robby’s body. “I’m very thorough.”
“What the fuck? Why?”
“You’re my new fighter. And you’re on in a few minutes. Seymour here will show you the way.”
“Fighter?” Robby asked.
Seymour opened the cage door.
“Right this way, follow me,” he said. Robby followed him down a dark hallway. He moved slowly due to the weight as well as the sharp pain in his joints with every step or movement. After a ways, Seymour opened a set of double doors and they stepped outside. Robby was surrounded by spotlights and what looked like two dozen or so people standing around. There was a guy who had a similar contraption to him attached to his body standing across from him.
“What is this?” Robby asked.
“That’s your opponent. Here, you’ll need this,” Seymour said as he handed Robby a large machete. Robby wasn’t sure where he’d gotten it, but there it was. Seymour moved back among the crowd who was cheering. Robby could make out some of the things they were saying.
“Kill him!”
“Cut ‘em to pieces!”
“Fuck his ass up!”
Looking at the other guy, Robby could see he looked just as scared and confused. They took a few steps toward each other.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Robby said.
“I don’t want to fight you either,” the guy said. “I want to get out of here.”
“Me too.” Before either of them could say anymore, both of their shock collars went off sending them to the ground, writhing in pain.
“I’m not gonna fight this guy!” Robby yelled as his collar went off again, this time longer and more intense than before.
“Fight!” A voice called from the crowd. “Fight, or I keep shocking you. I might get tired of it and just zap your heart chip instead.”
“Don’t make us do this!” Robby cried. “I don’t even know this guy.” Before he could plead his case further, he heard a loud hydraulic hiss as his opponent came running at him with the machete raised over his head. Robby moved just in time, rolling out of the way and jumping to his feet.
“Sorry dude,” the guy said. “I don’t wanna do this either, but I’m not dying or suffering for you.” He made another run at Robby, this time, the machete scraping along Robby’s forearm part of the exoskeleton. Finally, with a hissing sound, Robby raised the machete and charged at the stranger as the crowd cheered.
Chapter 19
Jorge tossed and turned in the little tent. He didn’t even have a sleeping bag, only a blanket. Not that it mattered, it was hot and muggy. Sweat poured down his face as he tried to find a comfortable position. That is, until Benzo stuck his head inside.
“Let’s go stud. Mother wants to see us,” he said.
“For what?” Jorge asked.
“I don’t know, we don’t question mother. Now get in there.” He stepped away as Jorge crawled out of the tent. He saw the other slaves all standing around.
“Are we all here?” Luis said as everyone looked around at each other. It was dark, but there was a dim porch light which provided a little illumination. “Ok, I guess so, let’s go inside.”
Luis opened the door as they all stepped inside.
“In here everyone,” Gilda said from the living room. They all walked in to find her sitting in her easy chair. “Line up here next to each other so I can see you all.” She had a lamp on next to her chair. They were all naked, the group of men and one girl stood side by side in front of Gilda.
“Something terrible happened tonight. A pair of slaves tried to escape this wonderful town. In doing so, they killed a whole bunch of townsfolk, including our deputy, Elvis. Fortunately the slaves were caught by Sheriff Cutter. He killed one of the slaves, and has the other one now. This is a small, peaceful town. We’re not accustomed to such violence.”
Is she fucking kidding? Jorge wondered if Misti was one of the slaves or if they were both from their group. That explains the gunshots he heard earlier. But Gilda calling this a peaceful town was laughable at best.
“So, I’m very saddened and hurt by this development. It will take this town some time to heal. In order to take my mind off this, I need you good folks to provide me with some comfort and entertainment,” she said. “I haven’t spent much time with Brenda lately. So I want you guys to gang fuck her. I want to see all her holes filled with some cock.”
